


Hidden Truths

by FairyPrincessKjar



Series: ACOTAR: Rhysand's Point of View [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, High Lord of the Night Court, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm trash for Rhys, POV Rhysand (ACoTaR), Tamlin vs Rhys, The Spring Court (ACoTaR)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 22:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13176723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyPrincessKjar/pseuds/FairyPrincessKjar
Summary: This is the scene in ACOTAR where Rhys discovers Feyre in the Spring Court, which leads to Tamlin sending her home. From Rhys's POV.  Ok, so I'm complete trash for Rhys.





	Hidden Truths

**Author's Note:**

> I may be a little obsessed with Rhys. I'm in love with writing his point of view. Not sure if I'll do another from ACOTAR, but we'll see.

I entered the Spring Court lands on the outskirts of the estate due to, perhaps, my proclivity towards the dramatics.  Though it would have been easy enough to winnow directly inside the manor itself, Tamlin would be able to sense my presence as soon as I entered his lands. He was, no doubt, currently trying to figure out why Amarantha had sent me this time. The waiting would put him on edge, giving me a slight advantage in the game we were about to play.  My smile was a cruel thing.  The evil High Lord of the Court of Nightmares, indeed. For Tamlin, for all he had done, I did not mind playing this role.  Initially, when Amarantha ordered me to pay Tamlin a visit, I expected to taunt and tease him. Maybe even pick a fight. Now, my mind kept returning to the curse.  That  Cauldron damned curse.  The seven times seven years were coming to an end and we were almost out of time. Had he really given up so easily? Damned us all for the sake of… what? His pride? A growl escaped me. I shoved my hands In my pockets trying to relieve some of the tension I was feeling. I had to watch myself, rein in my temper, for all of our sakes.  At this point though, I was getting desperate.  I wanted to go home.  To see my family.  I rarely let myself indulge in thinking about either.  It made returning to the present that much more difficult.     

I entered the manor feeling more than ready to take on the High Lord of the Spring Court, though I would have preferred to have an Illyrian blade strapped to my back. I was, however, dressed in my finest: an ebony tunic brocaded with gold and silver, dark pants, and black boots that went to my knees. After all, what was clothing but another type of weapon? Not that Tamlin understood that. The only concept he seems to grasp are the claws that he lived by.  I approached the dining table and stopped a few yards from my second most enemy. Tamlin pretended to be cleaning his nails, ever the irreverent High Lord of Spring.  Lucien was trying to appear nonchalant, positioned near the window, though I could feel the tension coming off him in great sweeping waves. 

“High Lord,” I crooned, inclining my head slightly.  Not a bow.  Never would I bow before him. 

Though Tamlin remained seated, the very picture of calm, his voice betrayed him. It was laced with the promise of violence as he spat out, “What do you want, Rhysand?”   


Mockingly, I put a hand to my chest. “Rhysand? Come now, Tamlin. I don’t see you for forty-nine years, and you start calling me Rhysand? Only my prisoners and my enemies call me that.” 

My plans seemed to be working so far. Tamlin looked ready to attack me, though he knew the consequences for doing so would not be pleasant.  My grin widened ever so slightly at the thought.  I turned and ran an eye over Lucien, almost snorting. “A fox mask. Appropriate for you, Lucien.”   


“Go to Hell, Rhys,” Lucien snapped.   


“Always a pleasure dealing with the rabble,” I sneered and faced Tamlin again.  I wasn’t here to pick a fight with the long lost son of Autumn. I had more important matters to attend to. 

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting.“ A lie. I had hoped to catch them off guard.  It seems as though I had, given Tamlin’s tenuous hold on his temper.      


“We were in the middle of lunch,” Tamlin ground out in a cold voice. 

“Stimulating,” I purred.”   


“What are you doing here, Rhys?” Tamlin demanded, still in his seat.   


“I wanted to check up on you. I wanted to see how you were faring. If you got my little present.”  I mentally shuddered at the thought of Amarantha’s little joke. The fairy she had ordered me to kill. The head I had then placed in Tamlin’s garden. One more rip in the shredded mess my soul had become in her service. One more act that damned both me and my court straight to hell. 

“Your present was unnecessary.” I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes at that.  Such eloquence from a High Lord. 

I retorted, “But a nice reminder of the fun days, wasn’t it?”  I surveyed the room. Needing to remind Tamlin of the direness of our current predicament, I smirked, “Almost half a century holed up in a country estate. I don’t know how you managed it. But” I said, facing Tamlin again, “you’re such a stubborn bastard that this must have seemed like a paradise compared to Under the Mountain. I suppose it is. I’m surprised, though: forty-nine years, and no attempts to save yourself or your lands. Even now that things are getting interesting again.”

“There’s nothing to be done,” conceded Tamlin, his voice low.   


Bastard. Selfish, stubborn fucking bastard. What was it going to take for him to come to his senses and fight back against her?  I approached Tamlin, each movement smooth as silk. My voice dropped into a mere whisper. “What a pity that you must endure the brunt of it, Tamlin—and an even greater pity that you’re so resigned to your fate. You might be stubborn, but this is pathetic.”  What had happened to the Tamlin who had served with his father’s war- bands?  That’s who we needed now.  Not this sniveling coward.  “How different the High Lord is from the brutal war-band leader of centuries ago.”   


Lucien interrupted, “What do you know about anything? You’re just Amaranth's whore.”   


I stiffened imperceptibly and faced Lucien. By the fucking  Cauldron ! Fox- boy was almost as much of a bastard as his High Lord.  Given our history, that was not an easy feat to achieve.  I could barely contain my rage as I spat out, “Her whore I might be, but not without my reasons.  At least I haven’t bided my time among the hedges and flowers while the world has gone to Hell.”

Mor. Cassian. Azriel. Amren. Velaris. Their names, and my reasons for acting as her whore, sounded in my head over and over.  For them.  To keep them safe.  That is why I endured being her whore.         


Lucien’s sword rose slightly. “If you think that’s all I’ve been doing, you’ll soon learn otherwise.”   


So you want to play, do you, Lucien? All right, let’s play.  It was a low blow and I knew it would leave a mark when I said, “Little Lucien. You certainly gave them something to talk about when you switched to Spring. Such a sad thing, to see your lovely mother in perpetual mourning over losing you.”   


Lucien pointed his sword at me. “Watch your filthy mouth.”

Well, at least Lucien had some fight in him still.  Maybe he would be the one to push Tamlin into action.  I scoffed, “Is that any way to speak to a High Lord of Prythian?”  I faced Tamlin again and continued, “Come now, Tamlin. Shouldn’t you reprimand your lackey for speaking to me like that?”

“I don’t enforce rank in my court,” Tamlin claimed.   


“Still?” I said, somewhat incredulous. The Tamlin I knew, and loathed, loved lording over and controlling those he considered lesser. I crossed my arms and went on, “But it’s so entertaining when they grovel. I suppose your father never bothered to show you.”   


“This isn’t the Night Court,” Lucien hissed. “And you have no power here—so clear out. Amarantha’s bed is growing cold.”   


I was destined to be known as her whore for the rest of my cauldron damned existence.  What really pissed me off, though, was that they actually believed I enjoyed it.  That thought alone set me off.  I stalked over to Lucien and, with my face mere inches from his, growled, “I was slaughtering on the battlefield before you were even born.”  Then, as quickly as I had come, I withdrew, casual and careless once again.  

“Besides,” I said, stuffing my hands back into my pockets, “who do you think taught your beloved Tamlin the finer aspects of swords and females? You can’t truly believe he learned everything in his father’s little war-camps.”

  
Tamlin rubbed his temples. “Save it for another time, Rhys. You’ll see me soon enough.”

  
Had he truly given up so thoroughly? Fucked us all so completely?  I meandered toward the door. I had the information Amarantha wanted.  Tamlin has, indeed, done nothing in an attempt to break his curse.  My personal agenda, though, remained incomplete.  Though I loathed the male, Prythian needed him to act.  I needed him to act.  He needed to do… something. Anything.  He needed to make a move. And soon.  Hoping to scare him into action, I jeered, “She’s already preparing for you. Given your current state, I think I can safely report that you’ve already been broken and will reconsider her offer.”

Lucien’s breath hitched as I passed the table.  Hmmmmm…. That was strange.  Lucien seems a little too excited at the moment.  Why was that?  I pondered that question as I ran a finger along the back of a chair.  I needed to buy a little more time so that I could figure out what had Lucien behaving like a petulant child.  Well, more so than normal.  

“I’m looking forward to seeing your face when you—”  I stopped dead in my tracks and studied the table.  The table was currently set for three.  Tamilin, Lucien, and…. who else? Well, now. Isn’t this interesting? Is this what had fox- boy’s proverbial panties in a twist?  Who was this lunch guest they were so keen on hiding? 

“Where’s your guest?” I asked.  I lifted up a goblet and sniffed it before setting it down again.  It didn’t smell as though it had been touched by anyone quite yet.   

  
“I sent them off when I sensed your arrival.” I didn’t need to use my gifts as a daemati to know that he was lying. I struggled to keep my face blank, neutral as disbelief coursed through me.  Could it be? Could the mystery guest a female human? Brought here to break the curse? Could we be so lucky? I tried not to feel it, the hope that threatened to consume me, lest it not be real. 

I flung out my magic in all directions, sensing if anything or anyone had been hidden from sight.  YES! I could smell her now.  Her scent was hidden, but it was there.  Somewhere close.. Tamlin was indeed hiding her from me. That arrogant ass!   Magic swept from me in a vicious wave to shatter the glamour.  They thought I wouldn’t be capable of discovering their ruse? I would laugh at the situation if it wasn’t so insulting. 

I smirked and turned around, eager to meet the poor wretch who had the misfortune of being Tamlin’s.  There she stood, half hidden behind Lucien. I took a step closer in order to see her properly.  Her terror filled eyes met mine and time seemed to come to a stop.  It wasn’t just any human woman who was cowering behind the fox. It was her. My dream girl.  The woman who had kept me alive these past few years. Staring into her familiar and very beautiful blue- grey eyes, I felt myself lose all hope and the world come crashing down around me.  

NO NO NO NO NO! This can’t be real! This can’t be happening!         

  
“You dare glamour me?” I growled.

Tamlin’s chair groaned as it was shoved back. As he rose, his claws, ever at the ready, gleamed in the sunlight.  My face became a mask of calm fury as I stared at her.  

“I remember you,” I purred. “It seems like you ignored my warning to stay out of trouble.”  How could I not remember? I had been dreaming of her for years.  Risked everything to see her at… Cauldron, I am an idiot.  She had been here for  Calanmai.  Staying with him.  Tamlin had brought her over the wall to break the curse.  Fuck.  I pushed my emotions down as far as I could.  I couldn’t deal with them now.  There would be time later to think about all I was about to lose.        

I turned to Tamlin. “Who, pray tell, is your guest?”   
  
“My betrothed,” Lucien answered.  

I sneered, “Oh? Here I was, thinking you still mourned your commoner lover after all these centuries.” I was getting tired of these lies.  Idiots.  I prowled towards Lucien and the woman cowering behind him.  Lucien spat at my feet and shoved his sword to between me and my… her.   

The smile on my face was an evil, vicious thing as I drawled, “You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you’ll learn how quickly Amarantha’s whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially its darling Lady.”  As expected, the threat had an effect.  The color leached from Lucien’s face, but he held his ground. 

It was Tamlin who answered. “Put your sword down, Lucien.”

  
Knowing the comment would haunt me later, I sneered, “I knew you liked to stoop low with your lovers, Lucien, but I never thought you’d actually dabble with mortal trash.” I could see her face flushed in shame.  Lucien was trembling—with rage or fear or sorrow, I couldn’t tell.  Time to twist the knife, just a little.  “The Lady of the Autumn Court will be grieved indeed when she hears of her youngest son. If I were you, I’d keep your new pet well away from your father.”

  
“Leave, Rhys,” Tamlin commanded, coming to stand a few feet behind me.  As if he had any power in this situation.  And yet he didn’t make a move to attack, despite the claws, despite me still approaching the girl.  Maybe he was realizing how truly powerless he was.  I brushed Lucien aside as if he were a curtain.  

There was nothing between us now.  How many times have I dreamed of seeing her again?  And here she was.  In his house.  With a gentleness I didn’t think I was capable of, given the current situation, I pried the knife from her hands and sent it scattering across the room.

  
“That won’t do you any good, anyway,” I said to her.. “If you were wise, you would be screaming and running from this place, from these people. It’s a wonder that you’re still here, actually.”  Her face betrayed her confusion.  She didn’t know, then. She didn’t know why she was here.  About the curse.  Any of it.  What lies had Tamlin told her?        


“Oh, she doesn’t know, does she?” I crooned.

  
“You have seconds, Rhys,” Tamlin warned. “Seconds to get out.”   


“If I were you, I wouldn’t speak to me like that,” I hissed.  I did not take kindly to Tamlin trying act like he were the one in control of the situation.  Besides, I couldn’t leave yet. Not until I knew she would be safe. Tamlin had brought her over the wall, intending for her to be the one to break the curse.  A few heartbeats ago, I had been thrilled beyond belief to discover that the High Lord was attempting such an endeavor.  But now… the situation had changed.  Drastically.  This wasn’t just any human that Tamlin had brought from the mortal lands.  If she succeeded, if Tamlin succeeded, Amarantha’s wrath would be monstrous.  Knowing Amarantha as I did, I was certain that she would want vengeance.  She would want revenge on the human who dared to defy her.  I nearly shuddered as I thought of the horrific things Amarantha would delight in doing to my human.  I needed to scare her.  She needed to be so frightened that she wanted to leave.  More importantly, I needed to scare him.  If he cared one bit for her, which I assumed he did, he wouldn’t want the girl to be hurt either.  I needed to terrify him so thoroughly, that sending her away was the only option- the only thing he could do to protect her.                


Knowing I would hate myself for it later, I threw my mental talons out and took hold of her mind.  Not deep enough to do any real damage, but just far enough so she would be able to feel it.  I needed her to know what I was capable of- and fear that power.    

“Let her go,” Tamlin said, bristling, but didn’t advance further. A kind of panic had entered his eyes, and he glanced from me to her. “Enough.”

  
It had been hundreds of years since I had encountered a human.  Apart from her, that is.  The lack of any semblance of mental shielding was confounding.  “I’d forgotten that human minds are as easy to shatter as eggshells,” I said, and ran a finger across the base of her throat. She shuddered.  I had to scare her in order to get her away from Prythian and protect her.  I knew this, but every instinct in my body was screaming at me to touch her.  Comfort her. Calm her fears.  Hold her beautiful face in my hands and kiss her soundly.  That, unfortunately, wasn’t what the Cauldron had planned for me.  Not for the High Lord of Hell.  “Look at how delightful she is—look how she’s trying not to cry out in terror. It would be quick, I promise.”    

  
I delved further into her mind, trying to find out any bits of information that could be useful.  The tenuous hold I had on my emotions almost broke as I stumbled upon thoughts of Tamlin biting her, claiming her.  Though I had no right to be, I was jealous.  She wanted Tamlin.  Not me. Never me.  I sneered jealously, “She has the most delicious thoughts about you, Tamlin.  She’s wondered about the feeling of your fingers on her thighs—between them, too.” I chuckled bitterly.  What a Cauldron damned mess this was.  The only way to save her was to ensure she absolutely hated me.  

I was succeeding in that.  She shook like a leaf in fear of me.  Simply out of spite, I drawled, “I’m curious: Why did she wonder if it would feel good to have you bite her breast the way you bit her neck?”   
  
“Let. Her. Go.” Tamlin’s face was twisted with such feral rage that a new thought struck me.  He did care for her.  I would go so far as to say he loved her.  Who would have thought that the beast of Spring could love a mortal woman?  It would be humorous, if not for that fact that it was my human woman that Tamlin was in love with.   

  
“If it’s any consolation,” I confided to him, “she would have been the one for you—and you might have gotten away with it. A bit late, though. She’s more stubborn than you are.”  The knowledge that they would have eventually broken the curse had I not come along and interfered would haunt me until the day I met my end.   

  
My talons gently caressed her mind again, the only apology I could give to her.  I removed the mental claws and her mind was hers once more.  She sank to the floor, curled over her knees, and trembled.  It was all I could do to keep myself from rushing over to her, throwing myself at her mercy, and begging for her forgiveness.  

  
I turned to Tamlin and pounded the final nail into my own coffin, saying, “Amarantha will enjoy breaking her.  Almost as much as she’ll enjoy watching you as she shatters her bit by bit.”

  
Tamlin was frozen, his arms—his claws—hanging limply at his side. “Please” was all that he said.  Finally.  Now we were getting somewhere.  

  
“Please what?” I purred.  

  
“Don’t tell Amarantha about her,” Tamlin said, his voice strained.   
  


“And why not? As her whore,” I said with a glance tossed in Lucien’s direction, “I should tell her everything.”

  
“Please,” Tamlin managed, as if it were difficult to breathe.

  
Ohhhh, he was begging.  The ugly beast inside of me purred in approval at the sight.  For what he had done to my family, he deserved this and more.  I pointed at the ground, and my smile became vicious. “Beg, and I’ll consider not telling Amarantha.”

  
Tamlin dropped to his knees and bowed his head.  

  
“Lower.”

  
Tamlin pressed his forehead to the floor, his hands sliding along the floor toward my boots.

I pointed at Lucien. “You too, fox-boy.”

  
Lucien’s face was dark, but he lowered himself to his knees, then touched his head to the ground. 

  
“Are you doing this for your sake, or for hers?” I pondered aloud.  I was enjoying the sight of him bowing down far too much.  The jealous, monstrous creature that I was delighted in bringing him down a few notches.  Not only for what he had done to my family, but for having her.  For loving her.

Needing to maintain my composure and make sure that my mask was firmly in place, I sneered, “You’re far too desperate, Tamlin. It’s off-putting. Becoming High Lord made you so boring.”

  
“Are you going to tell Amarantha“?” Tamlin said, keeping his face on the floor.

  
I smirked. “Perhaps I’ll tell her, perhaps I won’t.”  I knew goading Tamlin about telling Amarantha like this would be the final thing needed to convince him to send her back home.

  
In a flash of motion, Tamlin was on his feet, fangs dangerously close to my face.   
  
“None of that,” I said, clicking my tongue and lightly shoving Tamlin away with a single hand.  When would he learn that violence is not always the best option?  He was like a young Illyrian male before training or learning any self control.    

“Not with a lady present.” My eyes shifted to her face.  Who was she? So much about the beautiful painter and huntress before me was still a mystery.  Without even thinking, I blurted out, “What’s your name, love?”

  
“Clare Beddor,” she said in a voice that was nothing more than a gasp.  She lied. She had the nerve to look at the most powerful High Lord in history and had the foresight to lie!  I had never wanted to kiss her more than I did in that moment.  She was brave, beautiful, and cunning.  I wasn’t foolish enough to pretend that I could keep this from Amarantha.  The bitch likely had already heard something from the spies she had following me. Thanks to the fake name, I had something to give to Amarantha that would keep her happy.  More importantly, my human woman would be safe.   

  
My job here was done.  Time to go.  I turned back to Tamlin, “Well, this was entertaining. The most fun I’ve had in ages, actually. I’m looking forward to seeing you three Under the Mountain. I’ll give Amarantha your regards.”

  
Then before I could do something stupid, like grabbing onto her and taking her straight to Velaris, I vanished into nothing.  I couldn't return to Under the Mountain just yet, not while I was so unhinged.  Instead, I winnowed to a secluded corner of the Spring Court where i doubted anyone would be around to witness my arrival.  I swore I could hear my heart crack into pieces as the realization of what I had just lost hit me. My knees buckled and, with a resounding crack, hit the stone ground.  I doubled over as I retched again and again.  She was safe. She was safe.  She was safe.  When my heaving had subsided, I covered my face with my hands and wept.  I had just lost everything. But she was safe.  That was all that mattered.       
  


**Author's Note:**

> Constructive comments are welcome! Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


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